Before the Beginning
by hoppnhorn
Summary: There was a time when he wasn't so angry, wasn't so deadly. He knew what happy was...once. A short piece of fluff. *ONE SHOT*


**Randomly inspired and let's just say I haven't had much inspiration as of late. I'll take whatever I can get. Hope you enjoy. :)**

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><p>The night seemed to slug around him, his feet sticking to the pavement with each step. It took many beats of his stride to cover a single block and he let his eyes close slowly. Walking had felt good this morning; but that wasn't the case any longer. He missed the roar on an engine beneath his shoes, the slight hiss of air over the window. His car would have had him home in a matter of seconds, screaming around the four corners that separated his apartment from his office. The winding sidewalk seemed to stretch out, teasing him with endless blocks of cement.<p>

The city sounds were quieting, but the alleys still sang in his ears. The clatter of a bottle, the cough of a bum; they were all noises of the nightlife on his side of town. They kept him company on the sidelines of his senses, reminding him just how well he knew this path. He could find his way home with a blindfold on.

Fatigue begged his eyes to remain closed, but he refused to hear their plead, looking ahead. It wasn't a necessity to watch. There was nothing new to see. He had lived on this block since he was a child. Even after several years of absence, he'd returned to find it unchanged. Only in age had it shifted. Bricks were worn and glass was broken, but everything stood where it belonged. Construction and demolition belonged to the thriving part of the city. Here, the forgotten was left to fade away. Graffiti was bleached by sun and pelted by rain until Mother Nature scrubbed the disrespect away. He smiled at the simple justice. This neighborhood was stubborn like its people, refusing to crumble despite the pressure for it to do so.

At last, he found his door. It was a small, dark stoop that jut unceremoniously out from the brick face of a building. The design was rushed, and plain, giving no welcome to those who lived there. Yet he felt a sense of utter elation at finally climbing the steps, wrenching open the screen door. Light as a feather, it wobbled and slapped into the side of the doorway as he unlocked its thicker, bolted companion. When the rigid key finally bowed to the rusted lock, the dark apartment beckoned him inside. Soft, warm gusts of heat snaked into his jacket, reminding his skin of the comfort it craved. The cold night was banished with the twist of a lock and the hum of a sigh.

Home. He loved this most of all. A space that was entirely his. It smelled like him. It was arranged to his liking. Nothing was out of place in the minimalist chaos; his jacket was fine on a chair. Weaving down the long, narrow hall, he let his eyes droop once again. The smell of sleep wafted from his bed, teasing him as he strode through the frame.

And there she was, sleeping silently in the darkness. His eyes allowed him a moment of study, taking in her elegant form in the dim moonlight. A thin, blue line wove from her ankles to her neck, dipping and rising with the hills and valleys of her legs, hips, waist, and shoulders. On her side, she was the epitome of the female form.

She stirred slowly, his presence taking her from sleep.

"You're home late." Her voice was scratchy from a dry mouth and deep, quiet snores.

"Got held up." He responded in what he'd hoped would be a whisper, but his voice sounded like thunder in his ears, crashing the stillness of the silence. It didn't bother her, however, and she rolled onto her back, patting the space beside her.

"Come 'ere. I wanna go back ta sleep." A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She'd always claimed the inability to sleep without him. It was only recently that he'd discovered this to be true. No matter how tired she would be, it was only in his arms that complete rest would find her. He was her peace of mind. And she was his escape.

"I'm dirty, I should shower—" Her hand slammed into the mattress and his grin grew.

"I don't give an ape's ass if you're dirty. I had a shit day and I need my goddamn sleep." Only she made anger sound so endearing. Stripping his shirt over his head, he obliged her demand without a word, dropping his jeans and kicking off his boots. As he undressed, she was watching him. Her face was sprinkled with the light blue glow outside, revealing her long lashes, strong cheeks, and straight nose.

"Are ya naked under there?" He said with a grin, knowing full well she couldn't stand the constraint of clothes beneath the sheets. A smile finally graced her mouth, loosening the skin around her eyes.

"Don't get any ideas. If ya need ta tug ya hose, I know five of your pals who are willin' ta help." He snorted and shook his head as she waved a hand in the air, five, long fingers fluttering in the dark. "Ten if ya feel so inclined." Shaking his head, he sank into the mattress, knees first so he could lean over her. From above, the moon allowed him to see her face entirely, from her twinkling blue eyes to her messy, blonde hair.

"I missed ya." His voice was breathy in an attempt at a murmur.

"I always miss you." She replied, the jokes and laughter gone from her eyes. He captured her mouth in his, unwilling to deny her any longer. The time for lustful, greedy kisses was not then, not in those moments. There was only time for companionship and affection. His hand found its way to her hip and it drifted inward, lying atop the swell of her belly.

His baby.

"Well I'm here now." Her arms wrapped around his chest and she pulled him down. She got her way with him, positioning him like a pillow until she fit into the crook of his arm. Sliding into the soft sheets, his eyes drooped closed once again, begging for their rest. Her hand found it's way into his and he held it on his ribs, exhaustion rushing in like an overpowering wave.

"I thought of a name I like." She said, holding back his sleep with whispered words.

"What's that?" He grunted back. Her hand broke away from his and both eyes popped open to follow. Trailing her fingers up his abdomen, she plucked the set of dog tags from his chest. With a thumb, she felt the raised words, saying nothing as he watched.

"William." He snorted and closed his eyes.

"Ya don't wanna name him after me?" She smacked his peck playfully and shook her head against his shoulder.

"Now what kinda mother would I be if I did that?" He managed to pry open one eye to find her sly grin.

"Whaddua mean by that?" Her arms flexed in a slow show of strength as she lifted her torso from the bed. The kiss was brief, but it spoke volumes nonetheless. She sighed a small laugh when her head rested on his chest once again.

"No sir. I'm naming him William." Taking his dog tags in her fingers once again, she ran her thumb over the old letters. "You are the one and only Bones." Kissing the top of her head, he slipped further into the warm promise of sleep, but not before he grunted two last words.

"Damn straight."

**Love to my faithfuls. **


End file.
